


Crayons and Sand

by PartridgeOnAPearTree



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Galahad is a child here, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Nude Beach, Some slightly suggestive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartridgeOnAPearTree/pseuds/PartridgeOnAPearTree
Summary: In which Merlin is a regular nude beachgoer and Bedivere is a nursery school teacher.--Bedivere lives an ordinary life. Wake up, go to work, sometimes hang out with his co-workers, most of the time just go back home, sleep, rinse, and repeat. With the rate he's going, probably the biggest shock that could disrupt his every day is bumping into someone he hasn’t met in a while or something similar.But something like this… is just—Bedivere feels like his face has never been this hot before.





	Crayons and Sand

**Author's Note:**

> hello. i found the pixiv tag for merlin x bedi and my life changed. they look so Aesthetic™ and all the artworks in the tag are beautiful. i ended up thinking of the ship every day and was distraught that there were exactly zero (0) english fics of this pairing online, unless i dun goofed with my search and in that case, PLEASE DIRECT ME TO THE FICS, MY CROPS ARE DYING
> 
> here's the pixiv tag if you're curious ;) ;)  
> https://www.pixiv.net/search.php?s_mode=s_tag_full&word=マーベディ

If you were to ask Bedivere how he ended up in this situation, he would tell you that he doesn’t really know.

 

If you give him a few moments, he’ll realize that he _does_ know, but he just can’t believe that this is happening to him of all people.

 

He lives an ordinary life. Wake up, go to work, sometimes hang out with his co-workers, most of the time just go back home, sleep, rinse, and repeat. With the rate he's going, probably the biggest shock that could disrupt his every day is bumping into someone he hasn’t met in a while or something similar.

 

But something like this… is just—

 

Bedivere feels like his face has never been this hot before.

 

With this, we shall jump back to the past.

 

\--

 

“Teacher Bedi, Teacher Bedi!” A crayon drawing of a pink flower is haphazardly shoved to Bedivere’s face. “I drew a flower! Look!”

 

“Ah, that’s amazing.” He smiles at the little girl before looking at the drawing again. “I love the color you chose. Pink flowers are really pretty, aren’t they?”

 

“Yup! They're my favorite! I'm glad Teacher Bedi likes them too!”

 

“Teacher Bedi, here’s mine!” This time, a little boy shows him a drawing of a dog. “This is our dog, Wesley! He's really, really big! Way bigger than me!”

 

“Wow, I’d like to see Wesley in real life. I love how you made him look so cuddly.”

 

“Teacher Bedi, look at mine too!”

 

“Hey, I was here first!”

 

“I’ll look at everyone’s, so please don’t fight, okay?”

 

Bedivere is a teacher in a nursery school. It’s a great job for him if he does say so himself. He likes taking care of others and is often told he's actually good at it. People always say he has the ability to stay calm in any situation, is quite patient, and has a soothing presence. It also helps that kids seem to like him, and he actually likes kids too.

 

Today, their final and main activity is to draw something they like a lot. He's looking at everyone’s works at the moment, but there's only a little over half an hour before the children are expected to go home. After this, he too will go home, rest, and tomorrow will be exactly the same.

 

“Teacher Bedi, show us your drawing too!”

 

“Okay.” He chuckles. “You guys are way better artists than me, though.”

 

His was just a simple drawing of a black ribbon. He found that he actually liked small black ribbons, and it happened in such a way where he used them to accessorize quite a lot already before realizing that he liked them. When decorating anything, small black ribbons have become his default go-to without even knowing.

 

“So Teacher Bedi likes ribbons!”

 

“I like ribbons too!”

 

“Me too, me too!”

 

“Ribbons are really nice, aren’t they?”

 

The children start talking about their works in front of the whole class next. A lot of them drew flowers, their pets, their family, their favorite toys, and many other things. Listening to kids talk had this unique satisfying feeling. They seem to be in awe about everything, and if only Bedivere could, he’d like to protect them from any harm.

 

Time flies quickly, and the next thing he knew, the children were already bidding him goodbye in their own ways. Some kids like hugging him before leaving, some do a simple wave, and some do a simple smile.

 

“Let’s draw pretty pictures again tomorrow, Teacher Bedi!”

 

“Of course!” He waves at the child and her father. “See you tomorrow! Please go home safely!”

 

He starts gathering the drawings neatly. He should probably tape them to the walls and surprise the children tomorrow that their art is the décor of the room. Since he has nothing to do, he won’t really mind staying late today to get the portraits already set up.

 

Or so he thought.

 

He notices that one of his students are still sitting on one of the chairs, eyes firmly trained on the floor. This child—Galahad—a quiet boy with white hair and amber eyes. He always looks serious—honestly, Bedivere can count with one hand the times he saw Galahad smile—and though Bedivere loves seeing all of his students smile, he always wants to go the extra mile to make this particular boy smile.

 

He hasn’t been succeeding a lot, though…

 

“Galahad, you're still here.” Bedivere smiles gently at the boy as he crouches in front of the latter. “I really liked your drawing earlier. Do you already know how to play chess?”

 

Galahad shakes his head. “…Lancelot just plays it a lot with my uncle Gawain, and I like how the pieces looked.”

 

“Ah, I see.” Bedivere nods. “I'm not too good at it, but I do know how it goes at least. I’d love to play with Galahad someday.”

 

“I-I’ll do my best to learn it already, then.” Galahad actually looked a bit embarrassed, but he still kept his eyes focused on the floor.

 

“No pressure, but I look forward to playing with you!” Bedivere chuckles. “Anyway, did your father mention anything about being late today? He didn’t tell me anything, but maybe he said something to you?”

 

“…He's so useless, he probably forgot.”

 

“O-Oh, don’t say that. I’ll try calling his number, so he can pick you up right away, okay?”

 

“It’s okay.” Galahad bites his lower lip. “He's stupid anyway. I like being here more because you're smart.”

 

“I'm sure he's trying his best…” Bedivere pulls out his phone from his pocket, already looking at his list of contacts. He saved his students’ emergency contact person in his phone already so that he won’t have to search through some papers when the situation calls for it.

 

Galahad’s father is named Lancelot du Lac. Bedivere himself doesn’t know why Galahad calls him with his first name. Part-French, tall, looks tired all the time… Galahad has always been quite expressive about his distaste towards his father. Lancelot seems to be earnestly trying to earn his son’s approval—from the little Bedivere sees at least, and really, today is the first ever time Lancelot wasn’t on time to fetch Galahad. He's usually at least ten minutes early, peeking through the windows to see what activity the children have for the day, and proudly watching when Galahad does something smart.

 

And Galahad is a smart child.

 

He wonders what happened with Lancelot today, though…

 

“All right, Galahad. I sent him a message. If he doesn’t reply within five minutes, I’ll give him a call. Would you be fine waiting that long?”

 

“I won’t mind not going home.”

 

“Ah… That’s…” Bedivere bites his lower lip. “I’ve been meaning to ask—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—why do you dislike your papa so much, Galahad?”

 

“He's stupid.” Galahad says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he's even more stupid when there are pretty ladies around. It’s… really embarrassing to look at.”

 

“Does your papa hurt you or insult you at home?”

 

“No, he…” Galahad purses his lips. “…He doesn’t do things like that. He's just… really stupid.”

 

“I see.” That was Bedivere’s concern. If it ends up that abuse is the reason for the child’s animosity, then Bedivere can’t let himself not do anything. This particular case seems more like mere dislike, though. “I think your papa is trying to learn more, so if you can, maybe try being less harsh on him, okay?”

 

“…O-Okay.” The boy actually sounded a bit embarrassed. “I’ll try…”

 

“I hope things become better for the both of you. Feel free to talk to me about anything, okay?”

 

Galahad nods.

 

Five minutes pass, and Lancelot still hasn’t replied. Bedivere is feeling slightly nervous. He wouldn’t call himself a pessimist per se, but he does have the tendency to try and think of all possible scenarios in a given situation, and of course that includes a lot of unpleasant things. He’d like to think that he's a calm person—and people do say he is—but he still doesn’t really want to think of the possibility of being the bringer of bad news, especially if it’s news as bad as someone’s father being in an accident or something—

 

“Don’t worry, he's not dead.” Galahad speaks as if reading his mind. It’s a bit unsettling how a kid can talk about death with such a straight face. “I heard him talking about being on a beach today.”

 

“Oh.” Bedivere lets out the breath that he was unknowingly holding. “You should have told me that earlier. I’ll try to call him now, okay?”

 

“…I wanted to stay a bit longer. I'm sorry, Teacher.”

 

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s nothing to apologize for.” Bedivere smiles to reassure the child. “You can stay for as long as you like, but next time, please let me know where your papa is, okay?”

 

“…Okay.”

 

Lancelot’s phone rings twice. And thrice. And four times. Until Bedivere realizes that Lancelot is probably not going to pick up. That makes him nervous for a second time but for a different reason. That is the realization that he can’t even recall if there is a beach nearby.

 

He ends the call to immediately start a new one, and he's already trying to think of the best course of action in case Lancelot really does not pick up this second try. Galahad mentioned an uncle. If that person is at home, maybe he could fetch Galahad in Lancelot’s stead?

 

Lancelot, predictably, doesn’t pick up.

 

“Galahad?”

 

“I know the name of the beach Lancelot mentioned, so please don’t be sad, Teacher.”

 

“A-Ah, was I making a sad face just now? I'm sorry.” Bedivere immediately smiles again. It’s no good to lose heart in front of his student. “That’s good, but I was thinking if there's anyone at home right now who could pick you up aside from your papa?”

 

Galahad shakes his head. “Uncle Gawain is not really my uncle. I just call him that. Lancelot and I are the only ones at home.”

 

“Ah.” Galahad’s really smart for his age to already figure out that Bedivere was thinking of this Gawain person he mentioned earlier. It isn’t really complicated logic per se, but some children are not as fast to connect dots like this. “Well, then, maybe I can help get you to the beach and find your papa. Is that okay?”

 

“If Teacher is fine with it, then I am too.”

 

“All right then. Since you wanted to spend time together, this would be like an adventure of us two, right? Like this, we can talk more too about whatever you like.”

 

“I'm not very good at talking, though… but I would like to talk.”

 

“I’ll try to think of fun things to talk about. Anyway, what did you say the name of the beach was?”

 

“I heard Avalon.”

 

“Avalon, huh?” Bedivere has never heard of a place called like that. If the beach ends up being way, way farther than he expected, he wouldn’t know what to do. He just hopes Lancelot picks up his phone already. “I haven’t heard of it, so I’ll try to look it up. Please wait for a while.”

 

“It’s okay. I'm not in a hurry to go back.”

 

Galahad was vocal about not wanting to go home, but Bedivere has always been guilty about making others wait. He turns on his phone’s mobile data—immediately, a few notifications pop in—before opening his phone’s browser. Avalon, Avalon… He hopes that it’s just nearby.

 

The search results show up almost as soon as he types his query. Surprisingly, it turns out to be a drive less than an hour from the school—assuming that there is minimal traffic and that he uses the most optimal road the website suggests, at least. Unfortunately, the website suggests a road that he has never been through before because it involves an uphill shortcut, and he generally prefers the road below even if it’s usually more congested.

 

Not that he isn’t confident with his driving, but if he's going to be driving with a child with him, he’d like the road that has less reported accidents…

 

He adjusts the route of the map to comply with the one he plans to take, and the site shows that it expects he’ll arrive in his destination in more or less two hours.

 

Two hours and less than an hour… Such a great disparity just because of the choice in routes…

 

Lancelot still hasn’t replied or returned his call. Bedivere decides to send yet another message, one that says that he plans to bring Galahad to this Avalon beach, before turning to Galahad with yet another smile. “Shall we go?”

 

Galahad nods.

 

\--

 

As expected, they were already stuck in traffic shortly after the drive even began. Bedivere had Galahad sit on the backseat, safely strapped with a seatbelt. He turned on the sound for his phone’s notifications so that he’d know right away if Lancelot replies. So far, though, still no luck.

 

“Teacher.”

 

“Yes?” He smiles at Galahad through the rearview mirror.

 

“Who do you usually play chess with?”

 

“Ah, I have this friend called Tristan—he's my closest friend—and sometimes, we play chess. We’re both not very excellent in it, though, but I guess we’re pretty okay.”

 

“I’ll ask… Lancelot. To teach me. So that we can play too.”

 

“I’d really like that.”

 

“I hope I learn it fast.”

 

“I'm sure you can do it. I think you're a really bright child.”

 

“Teacher.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Are you married?”

 

“Ah? Haha, oh, no, I'm not!” Bedivere chuckles. “Why do you ask, Galahad?”

 

“Nothing…”

 

“Anyway, Galahad,” Bedivere smiles at the child again. “Is there a fun activity you and your classmates want to try but we haven’t yet? Everyone seemed to like drawing today, but I was wondering if maybe aside from that, we can try something new tomorrow.”

 

“I think…” Galahad sounded a bit embarrassed. “…I think I’d like a treasure hunt.”

 

“A treasure hunt, huh.” That idea actually sounded nice. Bedivere would have to prepare more, but it does sound like something the kids would enjoy. “All right, we’ll do a treasure hunt, but I’d have to prepare more so it’d be sometime next week. Look forward to it, okay?”

 

“Thank you, Teacher.”

 

Bedivere wonders what kind of treasure would be nice. Would a toy chest full of candies be a good idea? If it’s not every day, maybe it’s okay to indulge. Or he could get some of those chocolate coins, fits with the whole theme of a treasure chest and all…

 

By the time they get to Avalon, a little over an hour and a half has passed, and Lancelot still hasn’t replied.

 

\--

 

Avalon seems to be an indoor beach, one situated in the middle of a city called Camelot. Granted, Bedivere doesn’t go to this city a lot, but he thought that he would at least know that there's a beach nearby, indoor it may be. It seems like a prestigious place, though, judging from just the parking lot. His unassuming car looks quite out of place already next to the expensive brands in the lot.

 

He makes way to what looks like the beach’s lobby with Galahad, all the while anxiously checking on his phone for Lancelot’s reply despite the fact that he has already set his notification alert to the loudest it can be.

 

He manages to stay calm when he sees how extravagant the lobby is. He supposes that it should have been expected, judging from the cars he saw earlier, but this kind of thing is just far too removed from his usual life. He's just a simple teacher with simple belongings, hanging out in simple places and living in a simple home.

 

The lobby had a lot of decorative pink flowers to the point that the entire room smells so sweet. It isn’t every day he smells flowers fresh enough to have a scent this strong. The lobby is excessively large too with a ceiling so high and lamps hanging from it. The lobbies of places he usually visits, be it a resort or a hotel or something similar, tends to be a small room just enough to have a counter and a few seats.

 

This one though has multiple reclined seats fixed around tables, as if the lobby is already expected to accommodate some people whose business is not simply “entering” and “leaving”.

 

“Hey, hey! Welcome!” The girl from the counter’s greeting was so different from what Bedivere would expect in this kind of place it almost gave him whiplash. She grins, baring a small fang, before continuing to speak. “I'm Mordred, welcome to Avalon, blah, blah. I'm guessing it’s your first time here, so I'm betting you don’t know, but kids aren’t allowed in this place.”

 

“Kids aren’t allowed…” Bedivere repeats. What kind of beach doesn’t allow a kid in it? “Well, I don’t really plan on going in, we’re just here to look for somebody. Maybe you could help us?”

 

“Huh?” The girl—Mordred, she said—knits her eyebrows. “Well, guess I can try. Give me the name.”

 

“Oh, thank you. It’s Lancelot du Lac. Do you know him?”

 

“Lancelot, Lancelot…” Mordred mumbles. “You sure you got the right place? I don’t think there's any worker here with that name. Funny, he shares his name with a guy I knew from—”

 

“Oh, I mean, he's a customer.” Bedivere interrupts. Until he realizes that he doesn’t know that. He turns to Galahad. “…Right?”

 

Galahad simply nods.

 

“Haha, what? Do you really expect me to know about every single person who comes here? That photographic memory thing is really rad, I’ve seen it in a lot of movies. But the thing is, if I had it, I probably wouldn’t be working here.”

 

“Um…”

 

“Not that the pay is bad, but like, I want something cooler, you get me? Personally, I really want to be an astronaut, and then I'm gonna take a part-time job of fire-eating.”

 

Bedivere continues checking his phone nervously. “Do you have, maybe, a PA system or something? Can’t we have it announced?”

 

“A PA system would totally kill the illusion of a beach! I mean, where would you even put that in an actual beach? We’re trying to, wait, what’s that motto again,” Mordred pauses for a moment as if in deep thought. “Okay, got it, we’re trying to ‘ _create illusions that can fool reality_ ’. Of a beach, at least. So there's no room for a PA system, sorry.”

 

The call that he attempted just now went unanswered yet again.

 

“Do you think we can just look for him inside then? We won’t take long, we’ll just find him fast, and then we’ll leave.”

 

“Well, that I can’t let you do. You’ll have to pay the entrance fee—only you, though, you’ll have to leave the kid here—”

 

“I can’t do that, he's under my responsibility—”

 

Mordred grins again, flashing a thumb up this time. “I’ll keep an eye on him!”

 

“Teacher,” Galahad calmly speaks. “Please don’t leave me with an idiot.”

 

“Whoa!” Mordred loudly protests. “You wanna fight, kid?”

 

…Bedivere doesn’t feel he can trust Mordred with Galahad.

 

“But as much as I don’t like staying with idiots, I also don’t want to see you stressed out, Teacher.” Galahad speaks again. “So… I’ll play nice while you look for him.”

 

“But…” Bedivere crouches down to face Galahad. “I really don’t want to leave you here. What if something bad happens and I'm not around?”

 

“I’ll be fine. Idiots can’t hurt me.”

 

Mordred protests. “I'm here, you know!”

 

Bedivere sighs. Maybe if he does this as fast as possible, it’d be fine. “Okay. But you have to promise me that you will not go anywhere.”

 

Galahad nods. “I promise. I won’t let you down, Teacher.”

 

Bedivere smiles, patting him on the head twice. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

 

When he stands back up, he immediately looks at Mordred. “How much is the entrance fee?”

 

“Do you plan to rent a lounge sofa or—”

 

“There are sofas on a beach?”

 

“There are now.”

 

“Anyway, no, I'm just going to get in. No extra stuff, please.”

 

“Haha, I know that, I was just messing with you! Reciting my robotic spiel, blah, blah, you know? Anyway, that’d be twenty quid.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Fine, that’d be twenty quid, _please_.”

 

“No, I mean…” Twenty quid. That can already buy seven Big Macs. Plus, he remembers another indoor tropical aqua park or something where a parent and a toddler or a disabled guest and their caretaker have to pay twenty-one quid, and that’d already be two people. “Never mind. Okay, I’ll pay now.”

 

“All right, all right! Hope you find your guy! Good luck!”

 

Bedivere gives Galahad one last wave before he goes to the direction Mordred points to him.

 

\--

 

When Mordred said that they aimed to make a realistic beach experience, even mentioning that motto regarding realistic illusions, well, maybe she exaggerated a bit.

 

The indoor beach was beautiful, no doubt. That’s not something Bedivere would even contest.

 

But the area without water are still mostly tiled unlike the faux beach sand Bedivere would expect in a place claiming to simulate a realistic beach. There are also speakers and what seem to be party lights hanging on the pseudo palm trees they have. With that said, though, Bedivere decides that the earlier reason why they don’t have a PA system is nothing but an excuse. There are even multiple lounge sofas—probably water-resistant—littered around the place. If anything, this looks more like a really extravagant pool with a beach theme.

 

But these details aren’t even what Bedivere noticed right away.

 

No, in fact, he's trying to distract himself from what he's seeing at the moment.

 

He lives an ordinary life. Wake up, go to work, sometimes hang out with his co-workers, most of the time just go back home, sleep, rinse, and repeat. With the rate he's going, probably the biggest shock that could disrupt his every day is bumping into someone he hasn’t met in a while or something similar.

 

But something like this… is just—

 

Bedivere feels like his face has never been this hot before.

 

In front of him is a completely naked man—from head to toe, _completely, completely naked_ —

 

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The man had the audacity to speak so confidently.

 

Bedivere immediately takes off his coat and throws it at the man in probably the most disgraceful way he has acted in ages. “ _Why_ —Why are you naked? I'm sorry, I hope that didn’t hit your eyes, but—”

 

The man lifts an eyebrow, his smile amused, as he catches the coat with one hand. “Mmm, actually, a better question is: why _aren’t_ you naked?”

 

“Um…” Bedivere is finding it difficult to figure out where to look. The best bet is probably to just keep his eyes trained on the man’s face and keep it there, no matter what. The man had white hair, quite long, probably reaching beyond his waist, but Bedivere won’t look further down now to confirm. “Why would I be naked? Please, put on something, you can get arrested for this.”

 

The man chuckles. Bedivere fails to see the humor in what he said. “Well, now! Would you report me, then?”

 

“No, I don’t think I would… but someone else here might.” Bedivere looks around. Where are the other people anyway? They're quite far from here, but he can see a lot of them submerged in water, some lounging in one of those sofas he saw, but he can’t really see them too clearly. “Anyway, I don’t have pants to lend you, so I can’t help you out there, but you can keep my coat.”

 

“Hahaha, you're…” The man interrupts himself by chuckling mid-sentence. Bedivere still doesn’t understand. “You're really cute, you know that?”

 

“Thank you… I guess.” Being complimented by a naked and attractive man would have been nice in another really specific setting, but now, this just gives him a great deal of stress. “Anyway, I have to go. I'm looking for somebody. Please put on something. Bye.”

 

“Looking for somebody?” The man echoes as he starts walking next to Bedivere. Why? If someone sees them like this, would Bedivere be complicit of a crime somehow? He isn’t really an expert in law. But god, if Lancelot sees Bedivere next to this man, Lancelot might think that Bedivere isn’t a very good figure to teach children. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to find Lancelot anymore. At least, not right now. “What, your girlfriend? Your boyfriend? Your partner?”

 

“No, I'm not—Okay, maybe you’ve seen him around? He's tall, with purple hair and also purple eyes.”

 

The man hums. “What’s his name?”

 

“Lancelot.”

 

“I see. I’ll come with you. Let’s look for him together.”

 

“Well, that’d be nice, but… you really should put on something before you come with me.”

 

“How about you take off your clothes before we walk together?”

 

“How can you even say that with a straight face?” This man’s confidence is topnotch…

 

“Haha! Anyway, so what’s your relationship to this person we’re looking for?”

 

“He's my student’s father, and I don’t know, he might have forgotten that he had a son…”

 

“Your student’s father, huh. Did you bring your student here?”

 

“Yes, but kids aren’t allowed here for some reason, so I left him in the lobby. I plan to be back as fast as I can because I don’t really feel confident leaving him.”

 

“Hah, understandable! Mordred’s an idiot, after all!”

 

“Don’t say that…”

 

“So it wasn’t a partner who was here. Are you single, though?”

 

“Um… Yes.”

 

“Excellent.” The man winks at him. “I'm single too, by the way.”

 

Bedivere immediately diverts his attention to something else, his face burning yet again. Why is the attractive naked man flirting with him now? How can anyone even be confident enough to do this?

 

When they start to near the people, it’s as if Bedivere’s heart stopped beating. This situation wasn’t one that he has ever thought of experiencing, so he never had the chance to think what kind of action he’ll take when it happens. That’s why all he did was to stupidly freeze on the spot.

 

That was all he did as he sees that the people playing in the water, the people lounging in the sofas, the people hanging out by the bar—

 

All of them, with no exception, were naked.

 

The man beside him must have noticed that he stopped moving because he chuckles yet again, lightly tapping Bedivere’s shoulder. “Do you get it now? Let’s go, I’ll help you take off your clothes.”

 

“What's—” Bedivere immediately closes his mouth as soon as he opened it. _I'm guessing it’s your first time here, so I'm betting you don’t know, but kids aren’t allowed in this place._

 

“This is a nude indoor beach. Though you probably already realize that now.”

 

Bedivere stares at the man, frowning a bit. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

“Now, now, it’s fine! I mean, it wouldn’t be fun otherwise! Plus, your reaction was really something.”

 

“…Do I have to take off my clothes too? I don’t think I can do this, I'm just trying to look for my student’s father.”

 

“Well, it’s not really a requirement per se, but some people will think you're a pervert.”

 

“ _I'm_ the pervert for keeping my clothes on?”

 

“Yup! They’d think you're into this whole voyeurism thing or something. Well, if you're really into that, I guess I can’t stop you.”

 

“I'm—I'm not into that!” If this is a nightmare, Bedivere is ready for it to end now.

 

The man chuckles. Bedivere is starting to think he's enjoying Bedivere’s distress. “Well, if that’s so, you should take off your clothes. Or else they’ll start thinking that you're just here to watch naked people do their thing.”

 

Why isn’t this nightmare ending…

 

“There's a dressing room. Or undressing room, hah,” He gestures towards a door. “I’ll be waiting for you here. Unless, of course, you want me to help undress you—”

 

“N-No, that won’t be necessary!” Bedivere rushes away to hide the blushing of his face. “B-Bye!”

 

\--

 

Bedivere can’t believe he's doing this.

 

He takes a deep breath in front of the mirror and checks how he looks like for probably the fiftieth time already. He can’t do this. He can’t just walk out of here completely naked even if everyone else is. The last time he was completely bare in front of someone else must be the first and last time he had a one-night stand.

 

Not like there is anything wrong with people who do one-night stands, but it’s not something Bedivere believes is for himself. After all, the morning after, Bedivere wrote down his number for the guy who promised to call, and he took it pretty hard that he never really received anything. Not a text, much less a call. Self-image and self-worth issues and other similar drama.

 

Granted, he was a college freshman and quite impressionable at the time, so—

 

“Hey, hey, are you here?” The voice of the strange man accompanying him for some reason interrupts his thoughts. “You’ve been here for more than ten minutes now.”

 

Wait, seriously!?

 

He hadn’t even noticed!

 

He can’t keep Galahad waiting like this. That should be enough reason for him to steel himself and just go out already.

 

“Y-Yes, I'm here.” He responds, but he still doesn’t unlock the door.

 

Galahad is out there waiting for him to find his father. Galahad is under his responsibility, yet he left him under a stranger’s care because he said he’d be back as soon as he can. Yet he's here, stupidly standing inside a cubicle with no clothes on, staring at himself in the mirror because he doesn’t know if he can do this.

 

“You're taking really long. You really needed me to help take off your clothes, didn’t you?”

 

“I-I didn’t! I already did it myself!”

 

“Come here already then.”

 

He can’t possibly stay in this cubicle forever. Galahad is waiting for him. Lancelot will reply sooner or later. He has to get out of here one way or another.

 

When he opens the door of the cubicle he occupied, he thinks he's about to throw up in nervousness.

 

It was made slightly better by the fact that the strange and flirty man doesn’t even stare, doing nothing but giving him a charming smile. “Well, there you are. Let’s go.”

 

They leave his clothes in some sort of a locker room before heading back to the ‘beach’, and though no one is really looking at him in a way that others won’t do in a usual clothed setting, he still feels terribly self-conscious. He didn’t leave his phone in the locker—he noticed that the stranger with him also has a phone in hand—and he wonders about those people he saw playing in the pool. Did they leave their phones in the lockers too? They must really go here to just escape and relax.

 

If it ends up that Lancelot is one of the people who did that, that'd be really terrible…

 

Since Lancelot is here too, that means that he won’t judge Bedivere for being naked, would he? But then again, between the two of them, only one is a nursery teacher…

 

Walking around naked in a public place is an experience that he has never even imagined having. Something about it feels oddly freeing—the feeling of the warm air, probably from whatever device they use to regulate the temperature, on the parts of his body usually not exposed—but whatever liberating and positive feeling he has about the situation is overridden by his nervousness and self-consciousness.

 

“So how did you know that your student’s father is here?”

 

“My student overheard that his father will be here today.” This place is really huge. Now he wonders if it’s possible to even find Lancelot fast. Looking for a tall, purple-haired man shouldn’t be difficult, right?

 

“When I meet that child, I’ll give him a gift for remembering the name of this place. After all, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you.”

 

“Um…” He hates this because he knows that when he's really embarrassed, his blushing doesn’t stop with his face. It usually spreads to his ears and to his neck. And now, being nude, it must be ridiculously obvious how red he is.

 

Being generally surrounded by children and married parents, he isn’t really the usual recipient of casual flirtation. That must be why he doesn’t really know how to respond.

 

Though honestly, this guy doesn’t look bad at all. Bedivere does acknowledge that he's attractive, actually. That mischievous smile and those playful eyes seem to hold some unspoken promises in them. Maybe in a setting where he isn’t so rattled and shocked by a new and unexpected environment—not to mention, there is something he has to do at the moment—he’d actually try to enjoy the flirting.

 

“Haha, you're really so cute.”

 

“Thanks, um…” Bedivere clears his throat. “I like your… face.”

 

That’s terrible. That’s really terrible. He doesn’t know how to flirt back without being ridiculously awkward.

 

 “Aww, thanks.” The man looks like he's trying not to laugh. “That’s so sweet of you.”

 

“A-Anyway, how long have you been coming here? You seem like an… expert or something.” Bedivere asks, but as he speaks, he diverts his attention to the other people around them, looking for any tall men with purple hair.

 

“Well, I’ve been around since the place got built. That’s a little over two years ago.”

 

“Oh, that long?” Bedivere didn’t even know this place existed until today, and judging by the number of the people here so far, it seems that he's possibly part of the minority. “Honestly—I mean, you might have guessed by now—I didn’t actually know about this place before coming here. I was surprised that there's a beach nearby, I really thought I would have known about something like that.”

 

“So you live nearby.”

 

“I live more or less two hours away. Not too near, but not too far, either.”

 

“That is nearby since some people here are tourists from far, far away.”

 

“Is that so… Yes, this does look like a popular place. Maybe I'm just the unaware one.” Not only is it a nude beach, but it also seems like an expensive place. Someone like him who’s earning below the average citizen really wouldn’t know.

 

“Really, I’ll give two gifts to that child now! If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t even have known about this place!”

 

He hopes Galahad is okay. He's really taking way longer than he would like now.

 

“Shouldn’t you be thanking his father instead?”

 

“Well, it was the child who remembered the name of this place, so!”

 

“Good point.”

 

“Though, you're right, maybe I should show appreciation to the father too.”

 

“I just hope we find him already.”

 

Bedivere thinks he saw a man with purple hair jump into the water, but the man was pale—almost paper-white pale—much unlike Lancelot’s skin color. He couldn’t resist staring a bit at that area though to wait for whoever the man was to emerge. When he does, Bedivere sighs, as it predictably wasn’t Lancelot.

 

“If you get tired, I have one of those water-resistant sofas occupied. I have mine closest to the main bar, so you can get some drinks if you’d like. It’s on me.”

 

“Honestly, that sounds great, but I'm too stressed out to even think of drinking right now.”

 

The man chuckles. “Don’t stressed out people drink to reduce their stress? Come on, maybe a cocktail or two will help you be less rattled.”

 

Bedivere can hold his alcohol pretty well, but he couldn’t keep himself from imagining anyway all the things that will go wrong when he finds Lancelot and he's drunk. He's a teacher to children. He should be a good role model at all times. He can tell that Galahad and his other students admire him, and he doesn’t really want to disappoint anybody.

 

“Maybe after all this.”

 

“Maybe after all this.” The man echoes much more cheerfully.

 

“Just out of curiosity, how much does it cost to rent one of those sofas? Mordred tried to offer me one, but I rejected it right away since, as you know, I'm just here to look for someone.”

 

“Oh, it’s just like the entrance fee. Another twenty quid.”

 

“Ah.”

 

He doesn’t let his surprise show in his face. A total of forty quid to get in and just have something to sit on. He really doesn’t belong here. This man with him though—someone who seems to be here a lot and has a sofa rented, presumably he does that each time he visits too—must be really rich.

 

Nothing has even happened yet except for some flirting and a casual invitation to rest on a sofa and grab some drinks, but his feeling of inadequacy is rearing its ugly head again.

 

“Renting a sofa comes with two free drinks of the customer’s choice, though.”

 

“And how much does a drink usually cost?”

 

“More or less ten quid, but it varies.”

 

“I see.” Two liters of Coca-Cola is less than two quid.

 

“What's your favorite cocktail anyway? For ‘after all this’.”

 

“I remember saying _maybe_ after all this.”

 

The man chuckles. “I just like to know, even if it’s a maybe.”

 

“Well, I suppose it’s the old-fashioned cocktail. Though honestly, I don’t really drink cocktails a lot.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I don’t go to bars a lot. When I drink, it’s usually just with some friends, and we make do with buying something from a convenience store.”

 

“That makes sense. Well, there _are_ bottled liquor in the bar too.”

 

Bedivere wonders if the cheap ones he buys with Tristan are available in this expensive place. “How about you? Do you go to bars a lot?”

 

“I go here a lot, and there are bars here, and as far as I know, the bars here are ones of the best. So even if I go to just here, most probably the bars here have what the others more or less have.”

 

Bedivere thought he saw yet another man with purple hair, but it turns out to be a woman. Every false alarm gets him even more dejected. “So, um… Forgive me if this sounds really ignorant, but since you said you go here a lot, is this, like, a part of your lifestyle or something?”

 

The man chuckles. “Now, now, it’s fine! Anyway, I love getting naked, if that’s what you're asking.”

 

Said with such confidence Bedivere can’t even imagine having! “I-I see. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this. The truth is I feel really self-conscious.”

 

“I know, people usually make getting naked something to be embarrassed about or something sexual, you know? These places exist for people to see that getting naked doesn’t necessarily have to be that.” The man pauses and chuckles again. “But oh, don’t misunderstand, I think about sex too! A lot, actually!”

 

“R-Right…” Bedivere feels his face burning again. “…That’s, um, good?”

 

“Yup, it really is.” The man places a hand on his arm. Bedivere feels like his feet involuntarily stop walking as he makes eye contact with the man, his heart beating faster. “Right, I forgot to say… The truth is sex on the beach is my favorite.”

 

“A-Ah…?” Bedivere blinks, his face growing hotter with each second. He doesn’t even want to imagine how red he looks at the moment. “W-Well, um… I-Is that allowed here?”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” The man lets go of him, that smirk on his face an infuriating mix of mischief and victory. “After all, it’s one of the most popular cocktails, right? Even if you don’t go to bars a lot, surely, you’ve heard of it before?”

 

“A-Ah… Oh.” Bedivere clears his throat. _Oh_. This man was definitely teasing him! “Y-Yes, I have. A quite weird name for a cocktail, I say…”

 

“Have you ever tried it? Sex on the beach, that is.”

 

“Well… As I said, I don’t drink cocktails a lot, so…”

 

“Oh, I was talking about the other sex on the beach.”

 

“H-Huh? W-Well…”

 

“You know,” He looks like he was trying so hard to stifle a laugh. “As in the one that uses melons instead of peaches and pineapples instead of oranges. Not even that?”

 

“I-I’ve never had _any_ sort of sex on the beach, so…”

 

The man lets out a chuckle. “Maybe you'd like to try.”

 

“Well, it’s a popular cocktail and all…”

 

“No, not just the cocktail.”

 

The man’s soft hand was back on his arm. Bedivere’s heart immediately started beating fast again. He's just not good with things like this. His previous one-night stand experience has been nice, but he really doesn’t like to go through the aftermath of not receiving a call and questioning his likeability all over again—

 

“They also have candies here flavored after cocktails.” The man continues speaking, playful smirk not leaving his face at least a second. “So you should try the candy too, not just the cocktail.”

 

“W-Whatever, stop teasing me already!” Bedivere overtakes him, wishing that humans had the ability to stop blushing with just will alone. He does his best to put back his mind to why he's here in the first place—he's looking for Lancelot so that he can help Galahad finally go back home. He let himself be distracted by an attractive stranger far too long than he should have.

 

“Aww, sorry!” The stranger calls out from behind him. Sorry, he says, but his voice still sounds a bit playful. “I couldn’t help it, it’s so cute how you're blushing so much!”

 

Ah, he pointed it out. Bedivere was internally wishing that his evident blushing would just be an unspoken thing. Now that it has been acknowledged, he feels like his face has become even hotter.

 

“You know, you're really cute even if you're upset, but if I say that, I’ll just upset you even more, won’t I?”

 

“You already said it…”

 

“Haha, right!” The man chuckles. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you. Listen to me for a bit.”

 

Bedivere stops walking, eyeing the man suspiciously. “Okay.”

 

The man does something in his phone before facing Bedivere with an almost conspiring smile. “Anyway, follow me.”

 

“I thought you said to listen for a bit. Aren’t you going to say something?”

 

“Just come with me first. Please? You won’t regret it.”

 

“There's a kid waiting for me, you know.”

 

“Now, now, it’s fine! This will take just a short while.”

 

Oh, well. They can go anywhere, Bedivere will make sure to keep an eye out for Lancelot anyway. Maybe, if they go somewhere they haven’t yet, they’ll find Lancelot there. “All right, I’ll go. Where are we going?”

 

“To my cabana room.”

 

“H-Huh, wait,” Bedivere stops walking. The man looks at him, still with the same smile. “To your… r-room?”

 

“Yup, you heard me.”

 

“Um… I told you already, there's a kid waiting for me.”

 

“Well, I did tell you too that this will take just a short while.”

 

“So… it… will be fast…?”

 

The man chuckles. “Look, relax, I’ll just show you something you’ll like. Then we’ll go back to looking for Lancelot if we don’t find him already by then.”

 

“All right. Let’s go, then.” Bedivere clears his throat as he starts following the man to wherever he's talking about. “Anyway, there are cabana rooms inside this place? Don’t usual cabana rooms have good views? What's there to look at in an indoor beach?”

 

“The naked people?” The man chuckles again. “Well, the rooms here overlook the place, so we can bask in the glory of all the fake trees. Plus, don’t you think it’s a pretty resort?”

 

“Well, it is.”

 

“It’d be great if you can come again next time when you're not in charge of looking for someone’s father.”

 

It would be oversharing if he says that this place is too expensive for him to regularly visit, wouldn’t it? “I don’t know, I'm still really self-conscious about being naked in public. I only did it now because the situation calls for it. But um… if it’d be okay with you to meet somewhere else, I’d like that.”

 

“Aww, you're asking me out.”

 

“Don’t make it sound so weird. Besides, you did it first… unless I misunderstood, of course, and in that case, I'm sorry.”

 

“Haha, of course I was! Why would I let someone as cute as you go? Well, then, where would you want to go on our first ever date?”

 

Date? Bedivere usually just calls these things “lunch”, “dinner”, or “hanging out”. Spelling out that it’s a date is kind of embarrassing. “Well, maybe before I answer that, may I ask your name first?”

 

“My name is Merlin, but you can call me anytime.”

 

“…”

 

“Come on, I purposefully waited for you to ask my name so that I could use that line on you.” Merlin—well, it’s nice to finally know his name—lightly pokes his cheek with a finger. “Just admit that it made your heart race.”

 

“Well, how can I even call you when I don’t have your number?”

 

“Wow, I'm not sure if you're being smooth or just trying to kill my pickup line, but I like that either way.” The finger on Bedivere’s cheek stays there. “Of course I'm giving you my number. Do you want me to trace it on your back?”

 

With that, Bedivere feels like his entire back heated up. “C-Can’t you just dictate it to me like a normal person?”

 

“But that wouldn’t be fun, would it?” Merlin already transfers behind him, the tip of his finger on Bedivere’s back. “Are you ready?”

 

He doesn’t have time for this. That’s what he should have said. But really, it’s as if all his words died before they were even brought to life when Merlin starts tracing something on his back—a zero, he realizes—and all he managed was a deep breath. He can’t even remember the last time he got touched on his bare back.

 

Wouldn’t it just be the biggest, most dreadful, most disastrous event ever if someone gets hard in a nude beach?

 

With that thought, he takes a step forward to put some distance between him and Merlin. “If you really want to trace your numbers on my back, then maybe… it’d be a better idea if you do it somewhere private, like maybe in your room.”

 

When Merlin smiles that time, somehow, it’s as if it had an added layer to it. An element of… sensuality, for lack of better words, that it didn’t have before. “I’d even rent a new room just for that.”

 

“After all this.”

 

“After all this.”

 

“Anyway,” Bedivere clears his throat. “My name is Bedivere.”

 

“Well, it’s really great to hear you say your name, Bedivere.” Merlin chuckles. “So, as I was asking, where would you want to go on a date?”

 

Whatever he replies, Merlin would probably figure out that Bedivere isn’t as affluent as he is. Not like that’s something he's going out of his way to hide nor is it something he's really usually conscious about. Maybe it’s just the effect of being in this kind of setting where he's wholly out of place. “How about just dinner?”

 

Wait, that’s a stupid answer. Merlin asked ‘where’ to go, not ‘what’ to do.

 

If Merlin found him stupid, he didn’t show it in his face at all as the smile on his face never faded. “Sure, right away tonight if you're free!”

 

“Well, I am free tonight.”

 

“Aww, great! Well, then, we can find Lancelot, let him go home with his kid, and we can hang out in my room until dinner time or maybe play around in the beach or maybe even grab some drinks.”

 

Ah, Bedivere wonders why he's doing this to himself. Whatever happens, he should be ready this time. No more expecting too much, so that there would be no more messy and ugly aftermath like before. Besides, he's more mature now. If ever something does happen, he’ll just be there to play a bit then go back to his everyday life.

 

Unless, of course, they do keep in touch which is…

 

A bit nice to think about? He's not sure if that properly captures all his thoughts. He just knows he hasn’t really dated anyone in a while, and the idea of seeing someone isn’t bad at all. Merlin is quite attractive in an almost otherworldly sense with his white hair and purple eyes. And if Bedivere stares a bit longer, it’s as if under the light, the colors of the rainbow are showing in his hair.

 

But he's getting ahead of himself, already thinking of these intricacies when Merlin probably just wants to have fun. Bedivere doesn’t really think of himself as someone especially attractive—he's average at best, he believes—but if Merlin really does find him as cute as he says, then Merlin probably just wants to spend a fun day in the beach he seems to like a lot with someone he finds attractive enough.

 

Yup, that’s probably it.

 

 “Hey, what are you thinking about?” He feels Merlin’s hand on his shoulder. “Whatever it is, it’d be nice if I'm in it.”

 

“Yes, you are.” Bedivere clears his throat before Merlin can respond. “Anyway, are we there yet?”

 

“Very near. That one’s mine. The middle one on the third level.” Merlin points at what looks to be a series of rooms in the far side of the beach. The entrances don’t look like doors, in fact, they seem to be just really expensive-looking red curtains.

 

Doesn’t look too private.

 

Merlin’s is on the third level. Now that Bedivere looks closer, the ones on the third level have more proper-looking doors that aren’t mere curtains. They have what looks to be hot tubs too. Bedivere can guess right away that the ones on the third level must be the most expensive.

 

This place is evidently filled with rich people, but the ones who occupy rooms in the third level must be the richest of the rich.

 

If Merlin is the type of rich person who is snobbish, probably Bedivere would have felt it by now. So far, he seems to be nice enough. If anything, he seems to be the type of rich person who’s so rich that he thinks it’s just a natural occurrence. At least, that’s what Bedivere felt when Merlin was all like ‘ _oh, just another twenty quid, haha_ ’ as if it’s not a big deal.

 

Hopefully, Merlin’s not nice to him just because he thinks Bedivere is of the same income bracket. Though considering Bedivere’s presence in this place, he must have unintentionally given that message.

 

He wonders how to bring it up or if he even has to, in the first place.

 

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels Merlin’s hand sliding from his shoulder to his arm, having his own arm wrapped around Bedivere as they walk. It isn’t even too intimate of a gesture, but the fact that they're both bare seems to make all the difference.

 

As soon as they neared the rooms, a small, _clothed_ , blonde girl approaches Merlin and hands him clothes. She must have felt Bedivere’s curious look on her as she looks at him too and smiles quite warmly. Bedivere couldn’t resist returning her smile. “Hello. My name is Gareth. I work here.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Gareth. I'm Bedivere.” Gareth’s smile looks so warm and friendly that it’s making Bedivere almost forget that he's naked in front of a clothed person.

 

“Nice to meet you too! Have fun, the both of you!”

 

“Thank you, Gareth!” Merlin waves at her as she leaves. As soon as she was gone, he turns his attention back to Bedivere. “Anyway, oddly enough, people are usually clothed here near the cabana rooms, so I asked her to bring some swimwear for us. Here’s yours.”

 

There's no way this is free. He inspects the clothes Merlin handed him and feels their material. “This is surely additional cost, isn’t it? How did you even contact her?”

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t mind that! Anyway, her number is saved in this phone, so I was able to contact her. We’re friends, actually, it’s so cold of her to introduce herself as merely someone who works here, but oh, well!”

 

“Maybe she’s just trying to be professional.”

 

“Yup, yup, that’s probably it. Since Gareth is very responsible. Anyway,” Merlin smiles at him. “Let’s go and dress up. There's another dressing room nearby.”

 

“Can’t we just go straight to your room and dress up there?”

 

“Well, sure, if you're fine with possibly bumping to someone clothed on the way there.”

 

“Fine, I get it. How much is this again? I don’t think you replied.”

 

“Oh, I did. I said to not mind it, it’s already been taken care of. Just wear it, and we’ll go, okay?”

 

“What do you mean it’s already been taken care of? I can’t possibly—”

 

“Bye, bye, I'm gonna go get dressed now!”

 

\--

 

The clothing was a short-sleeved windbreaker jacket and swimming shorts. The jacket was mainly white with turquoise on the sides, the hood itself, and on the ends of the sleeves. He zips it up and decides that that will look stupid on a beach, indoor it may be, so he leaves it unzipped.

 

The accompanying shorts had some complicated-looking knots, but when he has finally worn both, he could say that he actually looked pretty nice.

 

When he goes out, Merlin is already there, fiddling with his phone. Unexpectedly, he was wearing a black rash guard partnered with black shorts. Maybe it’s just Bedivere, but since Merlin said he was usually here—usually naked, that implies—it was a bit jarring to see him wearing something that covers his entire upper body.

 

And oddly enough, Bedivere thinks he looks even more attractive being clothed.

 

“With how much you're staring, I wonder what kind of thoughts you're having about me.” Merlin chuckles. “Care to share?”

 

“You look nice… I think. Anyway, you said you were going to show me something.”

 

“Oh, yup, that’s right.” Merlin grabs a hold of his hand without any warning. Bedivere’s immediate thought is to pull away his hand out of sheer embarrassment and the fact that he doesn’t usually hold hands with others—the last time is even with children during a London Bridge game—but he's glad that he didn’t get to pull away because it actually feels…

 

Nice. Great, even. Merlin’s hand was smooth against his. And due to the simple detail of them now wearing clothes, somehow, Bedivere feels more confident to touch.

 

They climb the stairs straight to the third level. From here, they really could see most of the place. Maybe that’s why Merlin brought him here. This way, they could see more people at once, and they would be able to find Lancelot faster.

 

Bedivere appreciates it. Merlin didn’t even have to spend time with him and help him out, yet he still did so anyway.

 

“Here’s mine.” Merlin stops in front of a door. Bedivere realizes that this is the middle room he pointed earlier. “Do you want to go in first?”

 

“Well, it’s your room, so you should probably go first.”

 

“But you're my guest.” Merlin says as he turns the knob of the door anyway. He seems to have left it unlocked. That’s not good practice. “As you wish, though.”

 

Merlin steps inside the room, and Bedivere follows. The place is way bigger than he thought it would be. It actually looks like a mini apartment inside. The room they just entered seems to be the living room. It has numerous red couches inside—Bedivere notices they're made of the same water-resistant material the sofas outside had.

 

There is a small square table near the couches, and an empty bowl was in it. He wonders what that was for. Looking at the place like this, he thinks it seems lonely to occupy such a big place and being all alone—

 

“Oh, you're back—O-Oh!?” Bedivere hears someone say.

 

And it was a voice that belonged to neither Bedivere nor Merlin.

 

If Bedivere were holding something—anything that isn’t his own phone—at the moment, he would have dropped it. Fortunately, he was able to stay unmoving.

 

But that was it. He stayed unmoving. For the second time today, just like when he saw how everybody except for himself was naked, he was paralyzed by shock.

 

The same couldn’t be said about the person in front of him. The person who was previously holding a glass of liquor Bedivere couldn’t yet identify drops the glass, and whatever that liquid is spills to the floor, some of its drops splashing near Bedivere’s feet.

 

“Hey, Lancelot!” Merlin cheerfully greets. “Galahad’s teacher has been looking for you this entire time!”

 

“You…” Bedivere isn’t a violent person, but somehow, he feels the need to punch Merlin right now! “You knew him all this time!?”

 

“Wait, um,” Lancelot has a hint of panic on his face. “What does this even mean? I have a lot of questions, but first of all, is Galahad okay?”

 

Bedivere still feels like saying more things to Merlin. He could tell even without a mirror that the look on his face must be a big _I'm not done with you_ before he turns his attention to Lancelot. “Mr. Lancelot, nobody fetched Galahad from school today, and I called you a lot of times to inform you that I am bringing him here. With all due respect, I hope you at least arranged for somebody to fetch him before you enjoy yourself here on the beach.”

 

“I-I did!” He looked so helpless. “I messaged somebody to fetch Galahad today! My phone is missing now—I don’t know if it fell to the water earlier—but I'm sure I messaged someone before it went missing. W-Where is Galahad then? Is he angry?”

 

“Ah, about that,” Merlin waves the phone he was using earlier. “You left it by the bar earlier when we grabbed some drinks. Your message to Gawain didn’t send, and I was going to resend it for you, but this contact named ‘Teacher Bedivere’ said he's already going to bring Galahad, so I thought never mind!”

 

Bedivere shoots a look at Merlin. “Why didn’t _you_ at least reply to me, then?”

 

Lancelot does the same. “Why didn’t you return it to me immediately?”

 

“Ah, ahahaha, oh, well! I guess it’s time for me to go back outside—”

 

“You can’t just do whatever you want and run off when things go sour!” Lancelot hurries to the exit to block Merlin’s path. “Anyway, I'm really, really sorry for the trouble, Teacher Bedivere. Where is Galahad right now?”

 

“I left him with Mordred in the lobby. I also apologize for leaving him, but I didn’t know how else to look for you.”

 

“With Mordred?” Lancelot repeats. “Merlin, I have to go.”

 

“Haha, you probably should! Let’s just meet again later with everyone for dinner! Teacher Bedivere will join us!”

 

Lancelot grabs his phone from Merlin’s hand and bows in front of Bedivere. “From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for all the trouble. Someday, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

 

“I don’t think it’s your fault. Please hurry to Galahad. He's waiting.”

 

Lancelot darts out of the room in a hurry, and as soon as he leaves, Bedivere punches Merlin on the face.

 

“Ouch!” Merlin puts a hand over his cheek as if by instinct. “Fine, fine, I deserved that.”

 

Bedivere doesn’t get really violent, so now that he did, he immediately felt guilty. Even if Merlin himself acknowledged that he deserved it, he still can’t stop himself from feeling so bad. “S-Sorry, I didn’t really mean for it to hurt, but still, you! You are an… a-asshole!”

 

Merlin exaggeratedly whines. “It hurts! It hurts so much! I think this shall never heal unless it gets kissed by whoever caused it!”

 

“…”

 

“Oh, no, I'm dying! The pain is excruciating! If I don’t get kissed any second now, I will surely collapse and just straight up die!”

 

“I-I'm not gonna kiss you until you apologize.”

 

“Okay, I'm so sorry, but I only did that because Galahad told me that his teacher in the nursery is really kind and beautiful and smart. I had the chance, so I took it, you know?”

 

“…This doesn’t sound like an apology.”

 

“Lancelot and Gawain were talking about beautiful women, and I asked Galahad if there are classmates he found beautiful too. He said that the most beautiful person he knew is neither a woman nor a classmate, and wow, now that I see what he's talking about, I could tell that he will grow up to have superior taste!”

 

“This doesn’t sound like an apology!”

 

“I'm so sorry for flirting with the most beautiful person in Galahad’s life.”

 

“Do you really know a thing about apologies…?”

 

“All right, all right,” Merlin reaches out and holds both of his hands. He makes eye contact with Bedivere, and the way those purple eyes seem to try to communicate with him is already making his anger disappear—wait, no! Merlin seems like the type of guy who knows he's good-looking and takes advantage of that! Bedivere should know better than let himself be swayed by good looks! “I'm so sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

 

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

 

“I didn’t reply to your texts.”

 

“And?”

 

“I didn’t return Lancelot’s phone to him right away.”

 

“And?”

 

“I didn’t tell you I knew Lancelot.”

 

“And?”

 

“I didn’t tell you where Lancelot was even if I knew all this time.”

 

“And?”

 

“I didn’t tell you I already knew who you were.”

 

“And?”

 

“Lancelot’s message to Gawain actually sent, but I followed up that he should never mind because Galahad is already on the way here.”

 

“And?”

 

“Because of my actions, I kept Galahad waiting.”

 

“And?”

 

“I really want to kiss you.”

 

“Is that one of the things you did wrong?”

 

“No, but I just thought I should say.” Merlin smiles as he inches a bit closer. “I apologize for all the wrong things I did. Can you kiss my cheek better now?”

 

“Are you just apologizing because you want a kiss?”

 

“Well, I do recognize that I caused you unnecessary stress which is really bad, so I should apologize for that!” Merlin pauses. “But I also do want a kiss.”

 

Bedivere’s heart is beating really fast. If he lets his imagination wander, he might visualize it escaping his ribcage. He gets the feeling that he should be angrier, but Merlin seems to really not mean harm. Although it’s the first day they met, he could tell that Merlin must be the mischievous type, but not at all malicious.

 

“F-Fine.” Bedivere takes a deep breath. He places his hand on Merlin’s unharmed cheek and goes nearer, gently kissing the spot he punched. “Better?”

 

“Suddenly, my lips hurt so much too.”

 

“Did I punch them too?”

 

“No.” Merlin stifles a laugh. “I was trying to be smooth, but I guess that doesn’t work on you, mmm?”

 

“O-Oh, sorry, I…” Bedivere takes another deep breath. “Maybe… my lips hurt a bit too.”

 

He can’t believe he just said that.

 

Merlin looked pleased. “Then, it’s my turn to kiss you better. May I?”

 

Bedivere nods and closes his eyes. He feels Merlin’s soft hands on his cheeks, and he was so gentle when he presses his lips against Bedivere’s. With how flirty Merlin was earlier and the number of innuendos he said, Bedivere really didn’t expect a gentle kiss. It was so careful and soft, almost as if Bedivere could feel the apology in his lips, almost as if he could see Merlin’s small smile even with his eyes closed.

 

When the kiss ends, Merlin presses their foreheads together, and that was when Bedivere sees that he was indeed smiling. “Pain, pain, go away.”

 

Bedivere actually chuckles at that. It wasn’t even that funny, but for some reason, at that moment, it was. “I feel better already.”

 

“You sure you're not hurt anywhere else?”

 

“W-We can find out. I guess.”

 

“Sounds amazing.” Merlin smiles. “But first, let me trace my number on your back.”

 

\--

 

“Lancelot du Lac!” Mordred grins. “I knew your name’s too weird to be some other random guy! I totally didn’t recognize you with that tan, did Merlin finally install a tanning station inside?”

 

“Yeah… This place looks really expensive, I'm never coming back here again. Good for Merlin for owning something like this, though.”

 

“So _this_ is the son they were talking about!” Mordred grins at Galahad who was quietly sitting on the couch nearest the counter, staring really unhappily at Lancelot. “I think I attended his first birthday, but I can’t really remember?”

 

“That’s because you _didn’t_ attend.” Lancelot turns to Galahad. “Shall we go home already? Do you want me to buy anything for you? I'm really, really so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

 

“It’s okay… Papa.”

 

Lancelot falls to the ground as if he's been shot through the heart.

 

“Whoa, whoa!” Mordred runs from the counter to go nearer the two of them. If there was even a hint of concern on her face at all, it’s been completely overshadowed by awe. “Is he finally fucking dead!?”

 

“S-Stop being so embarrassing.” Galahad looks away, the embarrassment on his face undeniable. “Teacher Bedi just said I should try being nicer, so…”

 

“I’ll definitely find a way to repay him someday!” Lancelot immediately sits up, his hand clutching his chest. “I swear!”

 

\--

 

 


End file.
